


The Devil and His Doctor

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: 5.0.5. is only mentioned, A lot of focus on dialogue, Arguing, Flustered Black Hat because yes, Little bit of spanish in there too, M/M, Tension, and drug use, and he finally stands up to his boss, and language, but i love her, cocky!flug, confessions (sort of?), confident!flug, deformed flug, demencia slips him something in his drink, demencia's a jerk, everyone in suits, flug without his bag gives me life, i just really like 1920s style balls okay, ok you got this far you might as well read it, tiny bit of backstory, villains' ball, warning for drinking, what actually are these tags?, yes please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 11:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11183766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: "Oh, don't look at me like that." Laughing, Demencia twirled her finger around Flug's empty wine glass. "I just slipped you a little something to, y'know, give you a bit more confidence."Flug's jaw dropped. She'd drugged him? She'd drugged him. Demencia had fucking drugged him, oh shit. "You WHAT?"





	The Devil and His Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> I've fallen fast and I've fallen hard for these characters. I wrote this as fast as physically possible over two days. It wasn't supposed to be this long... XD
> 
> This is my first writing for this series, so I hope I did the characters justice. A few of my personal thoughts of backstories and what Flug looks like are in here, so I'm just gonna add those to the mix of awesome headcanons already out there. I hope you guys enjoy this, and if you did, let me know what you liked! :3
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Doctor Flug was drunk.

  
Not drunk enough to trip over his own feet like an idiot, but drunk enough to do perhaps far more idiotic things. Like tip his wine glass against his face and completely forget that he was _wearing a damn paper bag over his head_. And then he'd go as far as tipping the bag up before stopping himself with a muffled curse. He'd nearly taken it off! In a room full of people! Dear god.

  
This was why Flug detested social events like this. Setting the wine glass far from him on the table, he settled back in his chair and tried to appear more confident than he felt. It was difficult. The music was a bit too loud, a collection of strings and brass keeping up a steady tempo at the center-back of the room. They could fill the place to the brim with their sound, which was saying something; Flug had been in many ballrooms and mansions before, so it wasn't that impressive to him anymore. But he had to admit, the white walls and gold trim were lovely against the deep red curtains at the walls. A tiny thing to appreciate despite his bad mood.

  
He still didn't understand why his boss found it necessary to take all of his henchmen with him to these villains' balls or whatever the hell they were. When asked why they reverted back to old-fashioned parties and such, Black Hat simply explained that "those of his kind" preferred the older ways to the new ones of "this century." Flug knew better than to ask just what Black Hat's kind was or how many centuries he'd been going to these events.

  
Anyway.

  
Black Hat claimed that he needed Flug there while he discussed weaponry and business with fellow villains, in case he required the doctor to explain one of his inventions. Flug didn't see why he needed to be here for that. If another villain was interested enough in his inventions to brave a conversation with Black Hat, they'd be willing to visit the manor and see the invention for themselves. And none of that explained why Demencia or 5.0.5. were there as well.

_  
Maybe it's because they wouldn't shut up or would burn the house down if we left them_ , Flug thought drily, reaching for the stem of his glass once more. His sleeve threatened to crawl up his wrist as he did and he tugged it back down again. Damn suit. He was not the type of person to be caught in this kind of attire. Much too professional. But he supposed it was...all right to be dressed up for once....if only because someone might notice him.

  
_Nope, okay, shutting down those thoughts now_. The last thing he needed to be thinking of was his mortifying crush on his—

  
He stomped those thoughts down as he lifted the wine glass to his lips. "Shit!" he swore aloud as the lip of the glass bumped into his paper bag for the _fifteenth time tonight_. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

  
"Distracted?"

  
The high, devilish voice came from right next to his ear and Flug almost toppled off his chair. "What th— Demencia!" he hissed, struggling not to spill the tiny bit of wine he had left. "What're you doing here?"

  
Demencia giggled, a hand covering her mouth cheekily. Her mismatched eyes glimmered behind a shock of fiery hair, matching the crimson of her dress. She'd curled her hair tonight and the rest fell in waves of neon-green down her back. When Demencia prepared for balls, she certainly dressed to impress. "Why wouldn't I be here? Don't you remember our little pep talk?" she asked. Straightening up in her chair, she jabbed her finger at Flug and took on a horrendous impression of Black Hat. "You will go to this dinner or I will have you boiled alive and served with the first course!"

  
Flug snorted at her poor accent before he could stop himself. Dammit, he almost forgot he was drunk. "First of all, he doesn't sound like that at all," he pointed out. "Second of all, I meant why are you _here_? Next to me?"

  
Demencia shrugged. "5.0.5. wanted to raid the kitchen for chocolate, since he's—

  
"Wha—he's not allowed chocolate!"

  
"—not allowed, so I can't hang out with him anymore. And I saw you over here all alone, so I decided to hang out with you!" Grinning broadly, she spread her arms in a gesture of bravado. "And here I am! So, tell me..."

  
"Demencia!" Flug interjected again, wobbling a bit as he tried to sit up too fast. "You can't let 5.0.5. have chocolate! You know he gets sick!"

  
"Jeez, calm down, he'll be fine." She waved his protests off with one hand, her fingerless, black gloves showing off the red of her nails. "He knows when to stop. ....I think. ...anyway, let's talk about something more interesting!" She leaned her elbows on the tabletop and propped her chin up on her hands.

  
Flug fought the urge to just lay his head on the table and wait for her to go away. It was obvious just from the way she looked at him that she'd either torment him until he responded or go off and break something in her boredom. Both of those things could end with him being murdered by an annoyed villain. So, heaving a long sigh, he settled in for another hour or two of this. "Like what?" he asked, as she flagged down a passing waiter carrying a tray of glasses.

  
Grin widening, Demencia called for more wine.

-X-X-X-

Demencia should not have called for more wine.

  
She wasn't sure how many glasses Flug had had beforehand, but after two with her, he was really loosening up. His tie was a bit crooked around his neck and he was leaning heavily on the table. The slumped, relaxed posture was so at odds with his normal stress that she couldn't help but smile. It was oddly endearing to see this side of him.

  
Flug, on the other hand, couldn't care less what he looked like at the moment. He was too busy laughing at the hilarious thing Demencia had said, what was it? Something about.... oh hell, forgot. Never mind. Chuckling, he reached over for his glass again.

  
"Flug?" Demencia asked, suddenly leaning in toward him conspiratorially.

  
"What?" Flug raised the glass up to nudge it under his bag, then frowned when he found that it was empty.

  
"I know you're getting pretty drunk and I probably am too, but I still wanna ask you an honest question."

  
_She's babbling again_. But for some reason, he decided he didn't mind at the moment. "Sure, what?" he asked with a half-shrug.

  
"...do you like Black Hat?"

  
Flug choked on his own spit. It was the simplest of questions and honestly, it could've been taken as a harmless "do you get along with your boss?" But his mind immediately took it as...something else. A flush sprung up into his face and he thanked Heaven above that he was wearing his paper bag over his head. "D—do I— That's ridiculous, that— Wh—what do you mean, do I—like Black Hat?" he spluttered.

  
He knew he was in trouble when Demencia gasped, beaming at him in triumph. "You _do_ , don't you?" she demanded. "I knew it! I knew it!"

  
"I—I never said that!" Flug waved his arms in denial, but between the alcohol and his own clumsiness, it looked pretty weak.

  
"You don't have to say it!" she returned. "It's obvious from the way you look at him when you think he doesn't see. I should know, I only had a crush on him since the beginning of time."

  
This was it, he was going to have to kill himself. If Demencia, out of all people, knew about his deepest-kept secret, he was going to kill himself before she ended his life anyway. Groaning defeatedly, he folded his arms on the table and dropped his head into them. "Why me?"

  
"Aw, don't worry about it, Flug." She nudged him in the side with her elbow, not an ounce of remorse in her voice. "We've alllllllll been there."

  
"Not like this," he mumbled. Sure okay, that probably meant that he was admitting it now, but he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. His throat suddenly felt tight. "I—I'm not like you. I can't just....say the things you do to his face. Even if I wasn't already scared of him, I'd still be too...weak to say them." The paper of his bag crinkled as he buried his head farther into his arms.

  
There was silence between them for a moment.

  
Then Demencia's hand landed on his shoulder, surprisingly sympathetic all of a sudden. "You know," she said softly, "if anyone's gonna understand what you're going through, it's me. Even if I didn't give a shit and told him all that crap to his face."

  
"Yeah, but you're different," Flug argued. He lifted his head again, meeting her eyes behind his goggles. "Y—you're confident, Demencia. You throw yourself into things." He flapped his hand drunkenly and nearly knocked their glasses from the table. "I can't do that. I can't even be in the same room as him without—without wondering if he's thinking of me or worrying that someone else might—" Breaking off, he cast his eyes downward.

  
"I get it. It sucks, doesn't it?" She cocked her head to the side, mouth quirking up at the corner. "I'm not gonna pretend it doesn't still hurt a little. But I'm not as crazy for him as I was." Flug blinked in surprise and she just barked a laugh. "Yeah. After so long of trying and getting nothing? It starts to get to you." Then she balled her hands up into ready fists. "That's why tonight, I'm gonna help you."

  
A flicker of unease passed through Flug and his brow furrowed. "What d'you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

  
"Oh, don't look at me like that." Laughing, Demencia twirled her finger around Flug's empty wine glass. "I just slipped you a little something to, y'know, give you a bit more _confidence_."

  
Flug's jaw dropped. She'd drugged him? She'd drugged him. Demencia had fucking drugged him, oh shit. "You WHAT?"

  
A giggle bubbled from her chest. "See, it's already working!" she replied. "This is going to be fun, I can tell. I couldn't help it. As soon as I caught you working on that little something in your lab, I knew I had to test it out for you. Or on you."

  
Flug's mind raced back to every invention he'd been working on the past few weeks. He didn't like to tamper with things like drugs or medications, what could she have—?

  
Oh. The blood drained from his face. There was that...one thing. A harmless little pill he'd been devising, a sort of bottled bravery. He was never planning on using it. In a sort of twisted irony, he'd been too scared to, afraid of what he might dare to say under its influence. He was waiting until he was away from the manor, somewhere with strangers who wouldn't judge (or maim) him. Well, it looked like that was out of his hands now.

  
"Why would you do that?!" he demanded, gripping the edges of his paper bag as though afraid it might fly away.

  
"To help you, silly!"

  
"This isn't going to help me!"

  
"Of course it is! You'll finally have the guts to talk to Black Hat!"

  
"I have no idea what I'll say! What if I get myself killed?!"

  
"You're doing fine so far!" She gestured at him gleefully. "Look, you haven't stuttered once in the last two minutes. It's already working!"

  
Flug had to admit that he was starting to feel a little weird. His nerves were on edge all of a sudden, a slow sink into a feeling he wasn't sure he was comfortable with yet. His heartbeat had been pounding frantically at the prospect of potentially ruining his life. But now, he could feel it beginning to slow. Everything around him, the harsh glare of the lighting, the bold sound of the band, the crowd of well-dressed villains... It was all starting to lose its sharp edges. Was this really how much his anxiety affected him?

  
"Demencia," he heard himself say, as if through a fog. Was that really his voice?

  
"Mmmhmmm?" she hummed. She was watching with a twisted eagerness on her face. This was going to be so good. Flug might make a fool of himself but it was bound to get the weight of his secret off his shoulders and entertain her all at the same time. She snickered at the mere thought of it. Then she saw him raise his hand and the grin fell off her face. _Wait, is he going to...?_

  
Flug's fingers inched up the edge of the paper bag, revealing a slow-spreading smile underneath. Without its stammer or high-pitched worry, his voice drifted out in a way that Demencia had never heard before. "I think it's working."

 

-x-x-x-

 

Black Hat had been trapped by this man for the past hour. He would not stop babbling about whatever device it was he wanted to buy from the other villain. The man was older, with a thin, black mustache to match the slick gleam of his hair. From the tedious styling of his combover, to the too-bright shine of his shoes, his very presence screamed stereotypical villain. He probably thought that he looked good.

  
_He looks utterly ridiculous_ , Flug thought with a snicker, hiding his smile behind his hand. He'd been watching from across the room for quite some time now. It had taken him a while to find his boss after leaving Demencia with her remaining drinks and a few entertained guests. He should've known Black Hat wouldn't be found in any of the crowded dance floors or ballrooms of this mansion. No, he preferred privacy and that was found up a flight of stairs to the second floor. It was more of a raised balcony really, a few tables set aside a railing that overlooked the lower floor. Beneath them, the band played on and guests chatted around white-clothed tables.

  
Up above, Flug leaned against the back wall and crossed his arms. He'd been thinking about marching straight up to his boss and telling that other villain to get lost. But in the end, he decided to wait until he was noticed. And he was all too sure that he would be noticed. He ran a hand back through his hair, but it did nothing to tame the dark, tousled shock of it. The corner of his mouth quirked up. He hadn't been able to touch his hair like this in public for some time. The stares he was getting tonight... Too priceless. Dimly, he remembered when he would've cowered under their gazes and maybe fumbled for the first thing that could cover his face. But now, it was a passing fear that fizzled out the minute it arrived. He felt invincible.

  
"C'mon," he murmured, gaze fixed on the two figures ahead of him. "Stop looking at that idiot villain." As he waited, he let his eyes drift over the tall form of Black Hat. God, he could make anything look good on him: lithe limbs wrapped in a suit, the crimson of his shirt underneath flashing against the black fabric and his dusky skin. Of course, he still sported his top hat and monocle, the latter glinting and catching the light. His eyes were half-lidded with boredom, mouth drawn in a thin line. Flug almost pouted. He wished he'd smile. He loved Black Hat's smile, a crooked thing of sharp teeth that could make anyone's knees weak.

  
Then he saw him. For a split second, his eyes shifted from the other villain to land on Flug. Black Hat's eyes widened a fraction, the shock hardly recognizable to anyone who didn't know him as well as Flug. Flug met his gaze head-on, head tipping to one side as a smile played over his mouth. He could get used to this whole ditching-the-paper-bag thing. He wondered why he'd bothered to care what others think about his appearance in the first place. It wasn't as though he'd ruined himself on purpose, after all.

  
Many who knew Black Hat Inc. knew that the two henchman, Demencia and 5.0.5. were technically failed experiments by Dr. Flug. But none of them knew that Flug himself had been a failed experiment too, one of his firsts. It had left him like this: a dark stain, like a birthmark, splattered across half of his face and extending back to his ear. The worst part however, was the trauma that the experiment caused on his facial anatomy and how it had actually spurred his body to change.

  
He had two sets of eyes. The second set had grown in beneath the first and had hurt like hell when they'd emerged. The only upside to the entire situation was that they were unlike his original pair; while he still had to wear glasses for his first set, the second required nothing at all. The entire messy affair had left him looking like...well, a freak. Children flinched from him. Scientists demanded to study him. Other villains mocked him.

  
But tonight was different. Tonight, he didn't give a shit about the stares he received or the murmurs behind hands. Tonight, he was more confident than he could ever remember being.

  
All he cared about right now was the look on Black Hat's face when Flug smiled at him.

  
Pushing away from the wall, Flug made his way over to his boss, taking his time. Below them, the strum of guitars pulsed from the band and lights flickered across his deformed face. His smile widened as the other villain finally bid his farewells and slunk off to find a drink. Black Hat simply waited, hands folded behind his back, an unreadable expression on his face.

  
Flug took the place next to Black Hat by the railing and leaned against it lazily. " _Jefecito_ ," he greeted, edging close to a purr.

  
"Dr. Flug," Black Hat replied, nothing more than his usual growl. His gaze flicked over Flug again. "Is there any particular reason you find the need to burden me not only with your presence but with the sight of your....face?"

  
The smooth way he spoke always left Flug breathless, sometimes in worse ways than this. But with false confidence in his veins, he found that he ached to hear that voice again and again. "What, you don't like seeing me like this?"

  
"I would sooner have your head mounted on my wall than uncovered in front of me, speaking nonsense," Black Hat deadpanned. His eyes narrowed. "Where did your pathetic paper bag go anyway? Did one of those other idiots of mine finally manage to steal it off of you?"

  
Flug laughed, so different from his nervous sputtering that it had Black Hat doing a double take. "Neither of them could ever get it off me if they tried," he crowed. "I took it off myself."

  
Black Hat's lips parted, a mixture of wariness and disbelief tangled in his eyes. "I was under the impression you didn't want anyone to look at your hideous attempt at an experiment."

  
"You're not anyone."

  
For the second time that night, Black Hat had nothing to say. Flug grinned at him, eyes blue as rainstorms and reflecting the dancing lights. His suit did wonders on his usually-tired appearance, accenting his shoulders and—

  
No. _No_. Flug was _not permitted_ to act this way, he was in no way allowed to make _Black Hat_ act this way. Black Hat's jaw tightened. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  
"What do you mean?" Flug asked innocently, cocking his head.

  
"You're behaving worse than Demencia," Black Hat snapped. "At least that wretched thing leaves her insanity at the manor, instead of flaunting it in public." He gestured at Flug sharply. "You don't expect me to believe that all this is done of your own free will, do you?"

  
"Well...yes," Flug admitted. Even under Black Hat's glare, he was still smiling that little, infuriating smile. It was almost as though he found this amusing. Damn him.

  
"Don't play games with me, Doctor," Black Hat growled. "You wouldn't take that bag off your head unless it was pried from your fucking corpse."

  
"We're in front of guests, you know," Flug reminded him with a mock grimace. "I don't think these other villains like that kind of language."

  
Black Hat stared at him, mouth hanging open. Then a white-hot glow burned from behind his monocle and he advanced on Flug with a look of murder. "You will watch your mouth," he snarled, "or I'll rip it from your face."

  
"Do it."

  
Black Hat stilled, shoulders tense but confusion flickering over his features. "....what?"

  
"I said, do it," Flug repeated. He drew himself away from the railing and faced his boss, shoulders back and head held high. There wasn't an ounce of fear in his expression. "If you think you can, I wanna see you try."

  
Out of all of the things Black Hat thought he'd say, this was certainly not one of them. Something was wrong with his doctor. That was the only explanation for his behavior tonight. Black Hat took a menacing step toward him. "I don't know what you've been drinking or how much," he snarled, "but you must be drunk out of your fucking mind for daring to speak to me in this way."

  
"I knew it!" Flug barked a laugh, once again sending Black Hat's mind reeling. "You're all talk, aren't you, _jefecito_? You've threatened me dozens of times and pushed me around a little, but when it comes down to it, you won't actually hurt me, will you? Never as badly as you say."

  
"Keep running your mouth and I'll show you how badly I can hurt you," Black Hat shot back, claws curled threateningly at his sides. He didn't like the way Flug spoke of this, as though he'd figured out something that he shouldn't have. It left something uncomfortable twisting in Black Hat's chest.

  
"You wouldn't dare," Flug countered. Voice dropping to a quieter tone, he slanted a look up at Black Hat through his lashes. "Why else would you save me from explosions in the lab or heroes who've gotten past our defenses? You wouldn't want anything hurting me, do you? It bothers you."

  
Black Hat arched a brow. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?"

  
"I already know it's true. I'm not just a tool who invents all your weapons for you anymore."

  
"No, you're also a suicidal imbecile who is testing my patience tonight."

  
"I'm more than all those things you call me."

  
"What are you implying, Doctor?"

  
"You have feelings for me."

  
For a moment, there was silence between them. Black Hat's face was inches from his own. Flug stood his ground. After a split second, he thought he felt a tiny coil of fear somewhere inside him. Then Black Hat barked a laugh. "Have _feelings_ for you?" he echoed nastily. "Dr. Flug, you really must have gone entirely mad, if you'd believe such a thing."

  
"You can't laugh this off," Flug challenged. His hands were in fists at his sides. "I know what falling for someone feels like, I know what it looks like too."

  
"You're a fool," Black Hat spat, and it was like he'd thrown Flug's words right back into his face. Turning, he made as though to leave and wouldn't meet Flug's eyes. "Now, get out of my way. I'm going to hunt down Demencia and that insufferable bear and then we're going home until you come to your senses."

  
"You're not going anywhere!" Suddenly, Flug's body moved as if against his will; before he knew it, he had Black Hat by the tie and yanked him back around to face him again. He was so close, his hair grazed the brim of his hat. Glaring straight into those hellish eyes, he forced a tiny tremble from his hands. "I've seen it," he said softly. "I've seen the way you look at me. The way you threaten and yell insults and make a show of your power, but you never dare to do more than shove me around."

  
Black Hat bared his fangs. "Flug, if you know what's good for you, you will shut up and _let go of me_."

  
Grip tightening around his tie, Flug went on as though he'd never spoken. "I used to wonder why you treated me worse than the others. I used to think it was because I was the inventor, the one who built everything you needed. But now I think you were covering something else up." Before he could stop himself, he reached toward Black Hat's face. He realized that he was holding his breath. "I think you're afraid that we'll think you're weak."

  
His fingertips touched Black Hat's cheek. He almost expected to be incinerated on the spot. But instead, Black Hat froze. A myriad of emotions, from fury to outright disbelief, flashed over his gaze. Then Flug's hand moved to cup his cheek, as gently as he could. Black Hat lost a fraction of his tension, so subtle that Flug thought he'd imagined it. His eyelids slid closed and he briefly tilted his head into Flug's hand. Flug's heart pounded against his ribcage.

  
Then Black Hat seemed to remember who he was. "Don't— _touch_ me!" he raged, batting Flug's hand away as though he'd been burned. Then he grabbed Flug by the shoulders and shoved him backward. Flug's back met the railing and he gasped at a burst of pain blooming across his spine. Wincing, he forced himself to meet the eyes of an enraged Black Hat, looming over him with hellfire dancing behind his monocle. "You think you can get into my head and pick apart my feelings?" Black Hat demanded. "I don't care if you're drunk out of your mind, you have no fucking right to do this to me! I don't ever want to hear you speak like that to me again, and if you do, I will make good on every threat I have ever spoken to you!"

  
Flug found himself shrinking back as far as he could without falling over the railing. Black Hat looked like he was two seconds from tearing him apart, claws curled tight in the fabric of his suit. Flug's hands trembled and somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized, _the drug's effects are wearing off_. He summoned the last bit of courage he had left. "Why?" he challenged. "Why don't you want me to talk to you like this? Why can't I be honest for the first time since I started working at your damn company?"

  
" _Because it's not you!"_

  
Flug's mouth opened, then closed, no sound coming out. Black Hat's shoulders sagged the slightest bit, breaths heavy between them. A growl of frustration rose up from his chest. "Whatever this is," he said slowly, "it isn't Flug. My doctor would never throw my words in my face. _My_ doctor would never lay a hand on me. And my doctor doesn't prance around with his face on full display, thinking he can get anything he wants."

  
There was nothing but the music drifting up from the band and the low hum of conversation down below. Seconds ticked by, each as tense as the last. Finally, Flug managed to find his voice again.

  
"...y—your doctor, _jefecito_?" he stammered out, a shy smile pulling at his lips. His face was on fire, one hand lifting instinctively to cover it. His second set of eyelids had closed and when he blinked up at Black Hat, it was without that cocky gleam that had been in his gaze before.

  
For a moment, Black Hat said nothing. Then he sidled closer and there was that smile, the one that drew up one side of his mouth wickedly and showed off his fangs. "Yes," he rasped, the tip of a claw touching Flug's chin. "Mine." The doctor shivered as his head was tipped up and their chests brushed together. Black Hat's eyes dropped to his mouth and Flug's pulse felt like it was in overdrive. _Is he really going to—?_

  
Abruptly, Black Hat's form melted into blackness, tendrils of mist swirling in the air. Flug blinked as his boss materialized a few feet away, keeping a healthy space between them. Adjusting his tie, Black Hat avoided his gaze. "Right then," he said shortly. "Now that you're done with your little outburst... We should be going."

  
Oh. So....that was it then. Flug deflated, wishing he could curl into himself or maybe had thought to keep his paper bag in his pocket instead of throwing it away. He couldn't imagine what Black Hat must think of him. "O—okay. I'll um, go find the others then."

  
With a curt nod, Black Het sent him off. Flug left the railing and made to slip past him. He'd been an idiot, oh god, all of those things he'd said, how could Black Hat stand him?

_  
Of course he can stand you_ , a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. _Remember what you said? False confidence doesn't produce false words_. He thought of Black Hat closing his eyes as he leaned into Flug's hand on his cheek. Something new and giddying flitted down his spine.

  
"Um, s—sir?"

  
"What?" Black Hat asked roughly, busying himself with smoothing down the front of his suit. Then he met Flug's eyes and paused.

  
His doctor was smiling, this time that nervous, wobbly smile that was only Flug's. "I—I don't mind being yours."

  
And then he was gone, scurrying away to find Demencia and 5.0.5., mumbling worriedly under his breath all the while.

  
Black Hat stood there a few seconds longer, his mind still caught on that single sentence. Growling, he straightened the hem of his suit jacket. "Damn it all," he muttered. "I ought to throw him in Hell for this." He strode away toward the stairs, intent on forgetting that this horrendous night had ever happened. Flug's words still echoed in his mind.

  
_I've seen the way you look at me_.

  
He passed several guests on the stairs and pulled on the brim of his hat to hide the foolish way he smiled.


End file.
